


Glitter and Gold

by iwearplaids



Series: Burn the witches [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Gen, KINDAA, Kindaaa, One Shot, again this is just a very short one shot, i might expand it cause i really like the idea lmaoo, just a random one shot I wrote based on season 1 to try my hand at writing bellarke, lets see how this goes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 06:15:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19847293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwearplaids/pseuds/iwearplaids
Summary: She doesn’t find it that hard to believe. Afterall, just look at him. Chocolate freckles on coffee skin and mocha eyes. Anyone would say he was magical.





	Glitter and Gold

She doesn’t find it that hard to believe. Afterall, just look at him. Chocolate freckles on coffee skin and mocha eyes. Anyone would say he was magical.

So when they’re sitting next to one another against a tree, in the middle of the wood, Dax’s lifeless body laying ahead of them and Bellamy’s face turned away from hers to hide the pain and tears, she doesn’t find it very hard to believe that he is a witch. Doesn’t find it hard to believe that he has magic in his veins when she could already see the glitter and gold in his eyes.

And Clarke understands his fright too, why he threw away the radio and why he insisted on cutting off wrist bands. The Ark doesn’t take well to witches; magic must die in a floating metal can of science. Clarke… she wasn’t going to let Bellamy know of this, but she’d always agreed with the Ark laws regarding witches. Afterall, witches were the reason for the last war on earth. Or they were the one’s blamed for it at least. It was their photos, dressed in bleak dark clothes and sparkling eyes, leading marches of protests outside the government offices that were shown first when stories of the war were taught. Their sigils and concoctions that were blamed for mixing and burning the entire world. And Clarke had believed in the stories and in the punishment they were to be faced.

And it took Bellamy 90 seconds to make her question her teachings and prejudices and decide that if anyone deserved to live it was this boy who would’ve made her believe in magic without being a witch.

She curls her fingers against his jaw and turn his head, facing her.

“Bellamy,” she could imagine the thoughts running behind his furrowed brows and worried eyes. He was preparing for yet another person to wish him dead, and she couldn’t blame him for not giving her the benefit of doubt.

“If it’s forgiveness you want then I can’t give it to you.”

She watches Bellamy let out a wet sigh at that, sounding dangerously close to a sob, and nod his head. He hadn’t expected any different. More than anything she’d wanted in life, Clarke wants to comfort him, tell him that he’s worthy of more than just undeserving hate. But words escape her as she fights with her beliefs, her own disregard for the magic that burned their planet against her respect for the man beside her. He was capable of so many things and didn’t deserve to burn; none of them did.

Clarke grew up with the council, so she knew things most on the Ark didn’t, seen a lot of things too. Like the ginger haired girl who was caught in the backroom of farm station with non-approved herbs that grew with just the will of her mind. Clarke knew how that girl hadn’t been given the privilege of being floated. Instead, the backroom was sealed and burnt; the red girl along with her green friends.

“There is nothing to forgive you for, Bellamy.” She sounded like she always did; loud and strong and so sure of herself.

If Bellamy was surprised by her declaration, he didn’t show it. He merely glanced at her, head hung low and eyes still suspicious.

“But you can’t run away. You need to come back with me.” Clarke couldn’t imagine running the camp alone. All those hard decisions she’d had to make; she’d made them because she had Bellamy at her side to haul the heavy weight. She couldn’t do it on her own. Her bones would crumble under all that weight.

Bellamy’s hand found Clarke’s under his jaw. His soft hands showing the gratitude his eyes refused to as he held her hand against his face.

“When the Ark comes down,” neither of them pay attention to the way his voice breaks apart, he had more than enough reasons to be terrified. “They’re going to burn the witch.”

Clarke raised her other hand, capturing his whole ~~pretty~~ magical face in her palms.

“Then we’ll give them hell.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading! I love comments, please give me some. Criticisms are also welcomed with open arms.


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